


Life story

by themerrymutants



Category: X-Men (Movies), X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Deaf Character, Gen, Major Original Character(s), Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-12
Updated: 2015-05-12
Packaged: 2018-03-30 05:50:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3925234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themerrymutants/pseuds/themerrymutants
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Karin tells of her life growing up being the human daughter of a member of the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Life story

The entire drive to my counselor’s office I’m trying to convince myself that this is a good idea. That I do need to talk with an outside party. This was Charles’ idea, he had a doctorate in both genetics and Psychology overachiever and he was a telepath so I, the art student, couldn’t really argue with him. Still I’d much rather talk to someone who knows the ins and outs of the supering world than a civilian. There was a 99.99% chance that this poor person would give a ‘you know what I think this person would be a LOT better for you’ and flee for their lives than actually let me continue to be in their care.

I get there to find my interpreter isn’t there… For fuck’s sake this is the third time she’s been late. I realize that being on government insurance, especially under a plan meant for superheroes and their children, I shouldn’t be too picky but for Heaven’s sake! None of my doctors know American Sign Language, Partial Signed English, or even the dreaded Signed Exact English. I _could_ write but it’s slow, it’s irritating, and I seriously hate doing it unless I absolutely have to. It isn’t until my counselor comes to get me that Megan, my interpreter, _finally_ gets there.

 **Where the hell were you?!** I sign angrily.

 **My clock was an hour behind,** she signs apologetically and I manage to resist the urge to roll my eyes at her. Immediately my counselor, Maria, launches into introductions and Megan interprets.

 **Hi my name is M-A-R-I-A. It’s nice to meet you K-A-R-I-N.** My interpreter speaks for herself for a moment likely correcting how my name is pronounced. She always does that; I love her for it. Even if she can be late as hell sometimes. Then, as if it’d never happened, she returns to interpreting. **Come in and take a seat.**

The room is actually pretty nice. Not a trace of clinical anything in sight, it kind of reminds me of Charles’ office which helps make it feel more home-y for me. Maria explains her job and how she operates, I give her brownie points for talking to me rather than Megan, and asks if I have any questions before we proceeded.

 **Not really,** I reply.

**Good. So tell me a bit about yourself. What do you do? Do you have a boyfriend or girlfriend? Orientation?**

I knew she’d be nosy it kind of just damn… **I’m 22, an art student at NYU, I plan to be an artist, I’ve got a boyfriend I-S-A, um…I’m ace, though it’s not really important.**

She continues to interview me until she finally remembers that we’ve got to get at least a little done, thank G-d for Maria not having any appointments after mine so she can stretch it out more.

 **So what brings you to counseling?** she _finally_ asks.

**E-R-I-K er MA-G-N-E-T-O is kind of my father figure (he’s a bastard just straight up bastard) and because I grew up with him and his Brotherhood, basically his group of followers that live in a bunker, my childhood was fucked up. I just need help with that.**

She blinks owlishly for a good 5 minutes before finally remembering how to word again.

**O-oh…Um…**

**Yeah,** I sign with a shrug.

She shuffles her papers and I can see her wracking her brain for the script for this one.

**S-so what is your first memory?**

That was a good enough place to start.

I’m 3 and I watch as Mama’s pale lips move in patterns utterly foreign to me. She smiles though and so do I. She’s been gone  _so_  long. Where did she go? Why couldn’t I go with her? I reach out to her with pudgy hands begging to be picked up and she obliged. I clung to her tightly nuzzling her shoulder. I had missed the smell of lavender that seemed to permeate nearly everything she came into contact with, the warmth of her embrace, and how she’d gently rock me until I finally fell asleep. That didn’t matter now though. She was home and I was being rocked and all was right with the world. She presses a gentle kiss to my forehead and her lips start moving again, the vibrations of her chest as they moved acting like a lullaby. I dreamt of us playing outside and the tall man, who I decided was probably daddy, just watching with a soft smile. I was happy and so was she.

I’m 4 and Mama’s starting to teach me how to read. We start with little things like cat and dog. Then bigger things. I like reading and going off on adventures. I especially like when my siblings read. They act out the stories and make me laugh. Mama joins too sometimes and we’re all happy. Mama starts teaching me how to write too. C-A-T cat, M-O-M mom, K-A-R-I-N Karin. That was when I learned my name.

Mama and I write notes to each other. She asks me why I don’t talk. I say I don’t know. She asks about the music she’s playing and I comment on its vibrations. She presses further asking about the lyrics. I cock my head confused. Mama was scared, and so was I.

I’m 4 ½ and mama’s taking me on a trip away from the Brotherhood base to meet her friends Charles and Enigma. She’d been gone a lot lately and I was so happy I could go too this time. I intently watch the world zip by worried that if I close my eyes I might not see it again. The base was dark and grey and kind of lonely. Here there were so many colors I couldn’t even name them all. Reds, oranges, greens, blues and others I was sure no one else had seen before.

We pull into the driveway and I can hardly believe this is where someone  _lived_. It was a house so big I thought it was a castle. Did mama know a princess? Unfortunately, no, no, she didn’t, instead this was a school for people with powers. Telepathy, telekinesis, even someone who could blow up fruit. They learned control here, I liked that. People were walking to and fro holding stacks of books that reached to the bridge of their nose, some were floating with their books in front of them, but all of them stopped when they saw mama and I. Mama has a scar on her left eye that always makes her look mad and it sometimes scares people. Maybe that was why? They turn to each other with wide eyes and part like the red sea for us as we walk past.

Mama told me about Moses the night before who had parted the red sea, explaining how Mr. Erik, who wasn’t actually my daddy, was kind of like him wanting humans to let us live in peace. Only Moses was probably a lot less grumpy, was human, and wouldn’t have made us hide our Menorah or us doing Passover meal, and maybe he’d even join us.

We’re greeted by a lady who has indigo skin and scales along with rather large white wings. She smiles at the both of us warmly greeting mama. Enigma…that had to be her. Mama told me all about her and how she helped keep her friends safe when things were bad. She looks around at the others still frozen in place and shakes her head. Her lips move and suddenly life resumes. She motions for us to follow.

 _‘You must be Karin.’_  I jump, I’m not used to people being in my head, much less having them look at my thoughts and respond. It’s like my writing notebook only instant. The lady looks back at me over her shoulder giving me an apologetic look.  _‘I’m_ _Enigma. I didn’t mean to scare you. I just thought you might like this better than writing. Danielle, your mother, told me how writing is slow for you.’_

 _‘Oh, ok.’_ How long had mama been planning this trip?

We wander the halls of the home/castle until Enigma herds us into a room closing the door behind her. Suddenly I’m afraid.

 _‘You’re alright,’_ Enigma assured with a warm smile.  _‘I’d like to teach you sign language. It’ll take a couple minutes but you’ll be able to talk with your mom without having to use your notebook. You’ll have to help your siblings learn but I’m sure it won’t take them too long. From what your mama has told me about them it sounds like they’d be happy to learn. I just need you to close your eyes and relax.’_

I look over to mama and she gives me a reassuring smile. If mama thought it was ok then it was safe. Mama wouldn’t let anyone hurt me. I nod, close my eyes, and relax. There’s an explosion of information in my mind but I’m drawn to one word: deaf. Enigma taught me it wasn’t bad. It wasn’t good. It just was. I opened my eyes again and look over at mama.

 **I love you K-A-R-I-N,** Mama signs, her fingerspelling is slow and deliberate but she’s trying. I understand. For the first time I understand without having to ask someone to write something down. A wide grin spreads across my face as I run to her.

**I love you too mama.**

We go home and tell each other all the stories I never quite knew entirely until we both fall asleep.

I’m 7 and Mr. Erik is very angry at me. I only wanted to make his helmet pretty. Mama had gotten me magnets for my birthday to decorate my bed with. But Mr. Erik’s helmet needed it more. Even mama thought the maroon and purple monstrosity of a helmet was ugly. Mr. Erik didn’t agree. Mama pops into existence next to me accompanied by strong scent of sulphur. I always love her teleporting. Mama’s lips move furiously and so do Mr. Erik’s. Eventually they come to an agreement.

 **Magnets off,** was all Mr. Erik signed jabbing a finger at his now heart encrusted helmet. I do it, though I pout the entire time hoping he’ll change his mind. I count my magnets later and find one missing. Mama finds it inside his helmet and makes me promise not to tell.

I’m 8 and I’ve decided to give Mr. Erik his name. Mama finds it very funny. Mr. Erik is very annoyed. [See his helmet was kind of his baby and he was horrifically possessive of it so anything that involved it, even his sign name which honestly what else would it be? Sign names are based on prominent features. His most prominent feature was that damn helmet which, when added to the costume of his, made him kind of like a colorblind dildo…oh right memories. Sorry. Anyway.] He hasn’t forgotten me decorating his helmet and apparently finds my obsession with it to be worrying. Mama gives him a look and he makes a face that kind of looks like an angry duck but says nothing further. I continue to use it but try to make sure he doesn’t see. I later find out he usually did.

I’m 12 and waiting daily for something to change. For something to float when I concentrate on it, to picture a place end up there, I’d even take the ability to blow up fruit. There was nothing though, mama’s scared, I’m annoyed, and Mr. Erik isn’t happy that I still have no powers. His Brotherhood was made up of mutants and that was that. His right hand woman of 40 years couldn’t have a non-mutant…right?

I’m 14 and Mr. Erik has grown impatient waiting for _something_ resembling a mutation showing up. He half leads, half drags, me to a girl who can tell mutants from humans. He jabs a hand towards me presumably asking her to tell him which camp I ended up in; the girl barely glances at me before shaking her head. I’m human. I’m terrified…I know what he does to humans, it’s nothing good. He roughly takes me by the shoulder again carting me off to my mother, talking and signing. We, or rather I, have 1 week to get out before he _forces_ us out. She gets on hands and knees and  _begs_ , we have nowhere to go. This is our home, I’ve lived here my entire life and mama has lived here for decades. He doesn’t care, I’m human and he hates humans. Mama could stay if she let me go. She refused to though, I was the daughter she shouldn’t have been able to have. With a snarl and a whirl of his cape he stalks down the hall without so much as a backwards glance. Mr. Erik has abandoned us and I’m almost certain it’s all my fault. Mama sobs and I just hold her tight.

It's here that Maria stops me clearly confused about something. **Didn’t you say you had siblings?**

I nod, **Sorry. They’re adoptive but as far as I’m concerned they’re blood relatives.**

She nods in understanding and motions for me to continue.

Mama, my siblings, except Michael who she forced to stay, and I wait in a clearing 3 miles from the Brotherhood base. Enigma is going to pick us up and give us a home with her and Charles. Mama’s trying not to cry but I know she wants to. My brother Mitch places a gentle hand on her shoulder giving it a squeeze. He was the first to find out what Mr. Erik had said and the first to help us find a home. The others quickly found out too and joined us. Michael has to stay though but we’ll see him when we can. Mama wants there to be someone to keep an eye on Mr. Erik and he needs all the healers he can get.

Enigma comes to get us in a jet that looks lifted from the military. Aside: I love the X-jet seriously it’s the most badass thing I’ve ever seen and I still love that fucking thing. She’s taking us to the same school I visited when I was four, the X-mansion where she and Charles give people hope and control over themselves again. We pick up our things, of which there aren’t many, and get inside. We are all silent the entire way there mourning our loss. Even Psyche, the most talkative of my siblings makes no move to even look up. I worry that they blame me, that  _mama_  blames me. I could have gone alone. I wouldn’t have been mad. She’d been happy with Mr. Erik, and now she’s miserable. I hang my head and try not to cry. I’m 14. 14 year olds aren’t supposed to cry.

I am 15 and spending my days vehemently protesting our continued stay here. I want to go back to my  _real_  home. I want to see Michael, and Pyro, and all the others. I miss them, I miss Mr. Erik. I want to go home. Can’t I just apologize already and go home? I don’t care if he’s gonna be horrible. I just want my home again.

Maria pulls me out of my memories again. **As rude as this might sound I have to ask: is there anything more recent that brought this all up? It sounds like you seem to have mostly learned to cope with your loss.**

**This past weekend, on my birthday no less, the son of a bitch crawled to our front door.**

The memory plays in my mind almost like I’d taped it live.

I’ve long since accepted that I’m never going to see Erik again. I’ve also accepted that it’s for the best that I don’t. That environment had been toxic for us all. Mama ignored it because she cared about him so much, the others ignored it because mama did, and I just didn’t know any better. I look out the window and by chance see someone walking up the cobblestone driveway to the door. I dash to the door and open it to greet them only to slam it shut again when I see who it is. Mr. Erik. I want to punch him so badly for what he did to mama and I but the Professor wouldn’t like that much. I take a deep breath and open the door again trying my best to appear at least only mildly irritated by his presence.

 **Hello.** He gives me a faint, hopeful smile, as if somehow time will have made me forget him forcing us to leave without even giving us a place to go to. That somehow it’d fix that he pretended we didn’t exist for 6-ish years, that he’d abandoned us. We were lucky mama had friends here in the first place.

All these years and  _that’s_  his apology? I clench my fists, give him a look that could burn through steel, and vent every last one of my frustrations. I tell him about how broken mama had been, how many times I’d thought of visiting him only to remember I couldn’t, how this place for the longest time hadn’t been home. Eventually my rant went from at least semi-coherent swearing to me just sobbing.

I’d missed him. Whether he liked it or not I saw him as my dad and he’d just tossed me aside. He abandoned my mother who had been a faithful guard and friend to him for over 40 years because of something neither of us could control. I hate him, but I love him.

I hang my head letting the tears fall. He did something unexpected, honestly something I wasn’t even sure he knew how to do, and pulled me into a hug. It was awkward but I didn’t protest. I didn’t buy it though. He wasn’t the sort to give physical contact. In fact, he seemed to hate it. After a short time − some things never changed − he let go and took a step back.

**Where is C-H-A-R-L-E-S?**

I eye him warily. He was being a model citizen; he was  _never_  a model citizen. His pride wouldn’t let him. Though part of me was screaming to tell him to fuck off, which I would later do, I lead him to the Professor’s office anyway. I sigh heavily as we stop in front of the door. I would be forced to give him another chance, it was only fair since they’d given my mother one, but I didn’t want to. I wanted to refuse to give him the chance since he’d probably just abuse it. I also knew that mama would glare at him, tell him to go fuck himself, and go out drinking with him all in the span of the same day.

 **I don’t trust you,** I warn glaring at him. Try as I might to remain furious at him my features soften.  **I missed you.**

His eyes lower and he nods. Damn his pride, his inability to admit he’s a fucking ass. An apology, even a half-assed one, was all I wanted. It wasn’t too much to ask.

The doors to the office open on their own before he can say anything and he goes inside. They talk for hours and I just wait outside. I’m mad at him, I’m  _furious_  at him, but part of me isn’t. It’s sad and pathetic but part of me looks at him and still sees the man who kept a heart shaped magnet inside of his helmet, who had checked on mama when he’d found out she’d had a panic attack, who had saved her, who gave us a home, who could be so scary but sometimes as rare as it could be could also be good.

 **And that’s it,** I sign as I bring myself back to Maria’s office. I have to resist the urge to laugh at her bug-eyed expression. See this was why I told Charles that this was a _really_ **bad** idea. Did he listen? Hell no! Erik would probably become a humanitarian before that happened…. though given he’s moved into the mansion with us I probably shouldn’t use that one anymore.

Maria doesn’t even say anything she just points to the door.  Megan and I wave goodbye and take our leave. I decide to just stick with Charles. At least he gets it.


End file.
